


Foot Victory Verse (Working Title)

by Kenocka



Category: TMNT - Fandom, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenocka/pseuds/Kenocka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raph has done something horrible and as a result, is part of the Foot Clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proving His Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt sent by xeversayfishface: “What’s this? Are you trying to get away from me? You should know better.”

“What’s this? Are you trying to get away from me?" Xever flung an arm around the turtle's shoulders and yanked him close. "You should know better.”

Raph knew that the arm curled around his neck was meant to be companionable just as he knew that Xever’s offended tone wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. It didn’t stop him from tensing up in fear, his brain screaming that he was about to be dragged off to an actual cell instead of the barren square that functioned as his room. Forcing himself to relax wasn’t easy but the way he recoiled from anyone’s touch wasn’t unusual. The entire Foot Clan knew that he shrank from contact.

What else could be expected of him when his betrayal of his family was so fresh?

It wouldn’t be good to continue to show such displays of guilt and weakness though. There were still many doubts - too many - about his loyalty to the Foot and more importantly, to the Shredder. Raphael was quick to disabuse people of their opinions by following whatever orders given to him, completing whatever missions assigned to him, and working without complaint with whoever his assigned handler happened to be.

“I’m not trying to get away from you,” growled Raph as soon as his moment of indecision passed, lifting the fishman’s arm and sliding out from under it. He released it carelessly and continued moving towards the Shredder’s throne room with a scowl on his face. Where Xever’s sloppy sideways hug and weight had been was now a painful stinging sensation that left the turtle trying not to wince. Showcasing pain over something so small would not help establish his place in the hierarchy of the Foot.

He brushed past Bradford - a man he paid no mind - and then Tiger Claw - a man he at least nodded to respectfully - before stopping at the doors that lead to the Foot leader’s receiving room. Raphael breathed in deeply and then allowed himself to enter a space that many in the criminal organization saw as sacred. The cold, dismissive glare that he garnered from the Shredder was only slightly ignored as the mutant continued his trek forward at an appropriate pace. He preferred to meet the gaze of Oroku Saki. That kind of fearlessness had helped him in more ways than one. It was just terrifying not knowing exactly what he was doing when he was looking into the eyes of his once-enemy.  

Halfway to the throne he stopped and knelt on his right knee and drew his left arm across his body. He made a fist of his left hand and bowed his head for a few moments until the deep, gnarled voice of the Shredder bid him to lift his head to speak and rise if needed.

“Master Shredder,” said Raphael around the bile that rose in the back of his throat, “I’m sorry to bother you with this but I felt that it was necessary.” He hated how formal he sounded. He hated what he was saying. He hated what he’d done.

_‘But I’m doing this for my brothers. I’ll do anything to keep them safe.’_

“I’ve done a lot to prove that I’m loyal to the Foot Clan, to you. I’ve thrown away my old name and taken yours. I’ve done whatever’s been ordered of me without more questions beyond asking how something’s supposed to be done.” The young ninja made a show of incredible aggravation without much effort as he continued speaking. “But I’m still hearing a lot of whispers about me not being really dedicated to you.”

The gloves he was wearing came off and were shoved into the pockets of the metal and leather suit he now wore courtesy of Xever. For whatever reason the fishman had decided that Raphael needed something other than his own training and wits when he was on missions. To a certain point he agreed, he could move around New York during the day more easily than any of the Shredder’s other minions when he wore the getup. In the eyes of the public he just looked like any other human biker or thug on the street. His own naturally aggressive posture and gait combined with the suit and made him even more intimidating. It was a useful addition to his already formidable arsenal of abilities.

Still, he wondered if there was more to Xever’s generosity sometimes.

“I’m tired of hearing it.” By now he’d drawn a small crowd and in Raphael’s mind that wasn’t bad and it included the Foot’s top brass. They would help to spread the word of what was seen here tonight.

The turtle pulled at the zipper on the front of his leathers until it reached his waist and then, despite the chuckles, pulled his arms free. He stood up and turned to let his right side face the Shredder while his left showed clearly to the three standing behind him. A few sharp intakes of air left a cocksure and toothy smirk on Raph’s face. His message was clear to anyone that could see what he’d done to prove his fealty to his new clan.

Emblazoned on his shoulders in bright, bloody red was the Foot Clan’s stylized Three-Toed Sign of the Dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is potentially an ongoing RP between myself and xeversayfishface. If I can wrangle a Shredder, Bradford, and Tiger Claw into this then I'd be very, very happy. The chapter length may extend in the future.


	2. Return | False Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt sent by a Mikey blog (partyshell): "It's the police. Show yourself!"

"It's the police. Show yourself!" 

Raphael felt his heart clench and his breathing stagger at the sound of that too-familiar voice. It still sounded young and happy and a heartbreaking amount of hope stirred in Raph’s chest as the sound of Mikey’s swinging and swirling nunchucks closed in on his position. Then a fear so visceral it nearly left the sai wielder breathless took over and mercilessly crushed the joy that had begun to bloom under its heavy boots. If Mikey was here then Donnie and Leo weren’t far behind and Raphael had no intention of fighting his brothers, his family.

 _‘They’re alive,’_ he thought, really screamed at himself as he abandoned the quickly turning battle. Footbots had only been a threat to his brothers when the Shredder had first begun using them. Now they were nothing more than practice dummies, easily cut down by the skilled strikes of his siblings. None of the thirty or so robots left in his charge would make it back to the Shredder’s base that night. There had never been a time when his brothers had been anything but thorough when it came to destroying the cannon fodder of the Foot Clan.

On autopilot Raphael fled the scene as if he weren’t capable of easily leaping from one rooftop to another. He ran, slinked, and sneaked from one shadow to another on the ground until he was far from the site of the battle. He hefted a manhole cover out of place and swung down into the sewers that had once been familiar and almost welcoming. The lid slid back into place with a harsh grating sound of metal on cement and the turtle dropped down into the disgusting wetness below him. He was grateful for the thick leather boots and pants he now wore courtesy of Xever’s unusual generosity. At least he didn’t have to deal with feeling filth swirl under and around his feet. The suit would be ruined unless it was cared for immediately but it wasn’t as if he didn’t have extras. Xever could afford it, would gladly shell out the cash necessary to keep his pet project equipped properly for whatever he saw fit to launch Raphael at next.

 _‘Why am I running from them?’_ The thought nearly made Raphael trip over his own feet as he slowed and turned down a tunnel that would begin leading him closer to the Shredder’s lair. He stopped walking and fell back against the slimy wall of the sewer.

At first it was only his shoulders that were shaking but it quickly spread to the rest of his body until finally he couldn’t stand up straight any longer. His legs collapsed underneath the weakness caused by his emotions. The only mercy granted to him was that he was at least seated on one of the low ledges that lined the sides of the larger tunnels so he wasn’t sitting directly in sewage. The gloves that protected his hands were yanked off quickly followed by the modified biker helmet. With those two items gone, part of the surveillance on the turtle was cut off. Stockman wasn’t quite stupid enough to make the system dependent on having every piece attached to the wearer but it left Raphael free to curl up and clutch his head as he shook and sobbed quietly in relief and terror. His pulse was still being monitored and he’d be questioned mercilessly on exactly why he’d abandoned a simple security detail at the first sign of trouble but that didn’t matter to him anymore.

His brothers were alive! They were alive and they were in New York! They could fight the Foot and - him. Leonardo, Donatello, and Michelangelo would be fighting him. He had joined the Foot in order to protect them all but he couldn’t do that if they were back in New York. The Shredder wouldn’t allow them to just move back in and pick up the pieces. He’d order a hit the moment he recognized the work of Hamato Yoshi’s pupils.

Raphael might be the one ordered to do it.

“No.” Slowly and with great care Raphael stood up and stripped out of the black leather he wore as armor. He couldn’t leave it off for too long. Someone would get suspicious but he couldn’t let his movements be traced either. Using all the speed and skills taught to him by his senseis - good and bad - the turtle raced down the tunnels. Rejoining his brothers would have to wait until later but he could let them know what they had waiting in the wings.

Pulling a knife from somewhere on his person, Raphael knelt down and began lightly etching what he hoped was the correct Japanese word for family into the cement. It was a small carving, easily unseen but these tunnels had been used often by the Hamato Clan before everything had gone to hell. Somehow he knew that someone would see it and with luck, they would know what it meant and they would know that he was alive.

_‘And waiting for the time to take the Shredder’s head off.’_

Raphael ran back to and pulled his no doubt ruined suit back on and began jogging back towards the Foot Lair, the beginnings of a plan stirring in his mind.

* * *

He was clearly not aiming for stealthy silence. Not when his chucks noisily bounced against his pads (as well as the fact that he had just shoutedin what was otherwise dead silence), and especially not when he was trekking through NYC’s streets solo style. It was just easier to make a fuss, cause a scene, and deal with whatever (or whoever)stumbled out to greet him. 

Which just so happened to be a messy cluster of Foot underlings. 

Retrieving his nunchucks from their respective holsters, the youngest turtle bowled through their ranks. He felled them swiftly enough that he could slip into the sewer’s maw, and vanish into the labyrinth of tunnels beneath New York. 

It didn’t sit quite right with him. Something was nagging at his shell - that was too easy. It had never been that easy. Sure the turtles had been out of NYC for months - almost years now. But still, it shouldn't have been that easy. Though perhaps they were just unprepared for a turtle return and he had the upper hand.

Not that he’d have that anymore. Not after tonight.

Mikey did well not dwell on it though, and instead headed down the passages that lead back to the lair - his home. His hand dragged over cement as he moved, basking in the familiarity of it all. It was almost comforting how much nothing had changed in the big city’s undertow. 

However something caught Mikey’s eye, and sure enough he stopped, turned, and glanced down to the small etching carved into the rock wall. Confusion swelled at first, and then understanding came. The markings looked rushed, but he knew the symbol all too well. The mark of family. Somebody else had made it back too! 

Excitement suffocated him, and he sprinted - ran - until he was home. He barreled over the old ticket taker and jogged into the heart of the lair with a grin plastered to his mug. It was dark - uninhabited and it was as if the world had fallen, crushed him whole because there was nobody here. Though of course that realization did nothing in stopping his.

"Guys?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN WHICH I ACCIDENTALLY A DRABBLE BECAUSE OF FEELINGS INSTEAD OF A STARTER.
> 
> Partyshell is entirely to blame for these feelings. Entirely. Obviously this is set quite some time after Proving His Loyalty for those wondering why things are changing so much between chapters. 
> 
> This is an ongoing RP and this chapter - and others - will be updated as responses are made on Tumblr. I feel it's pertinent to note that despite what it says at the top of the chapter, this whole thing was not written by me (Kenocka) alone. Mikey is handled by Avamarie (partyshell), Raph by myself (Kenocka), and whenever anyone else shows up, they will be handled by their own muns. 
> 
> I seriously got carried away, but the fun's only beginning lbr.
> 
> \--Ava

**Author's Note:**

> Evil Raph has been done to death I'm sure but I really don't care. I'm having fun with my new blog and I wanna share what I've got so far. Chapter lengths may be extended as time goes on depending on my mood and the responses given by my partners.


End file.
